Except to Heaven, she is nought.

Except to Heaven, she is nought.
Except for Angels -- lone.
Except to some wide-wandering Bee
A flower superfluous blown.
Except for winds -- provincial.
Except by Butterflies
Unnoticed as a single dew
That on the Acre lies.
The smallest Housewife in the grass,
Yet take her from the Lawn
And somebody has lost the face
That made Existence -- Home!

About Emily Dickinson

American poet known for her unconventional use of form and syntax. Most of her work was published posthumously.

More poems by Emily Dickinson

View all Emily Dickinson poems →

More Faith & Spirituality poems

View all Faith & Spirituality poems →